


The Ship

by ooka



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-04
Updated: 2017-07-04
Packaged: 2018-11-23 13:01:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11402931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ooka/pseuds/ooka
Summary: “Doctor McCoy left on a flight for Georgia.  A family emergency.”Jim has to swallow the sudden lump in his throat, taking stock of what is in Georgia.  Both women’s name start with J, and Jim knows that Bones would never step foot in the town-that-shall-not-be-named unless it was necessary.“Is Joanna?” Jim can’t get the words out, because it hurts too much, burns in his throat, at the simple idea of the girl he’s heard so much about being hurt or worse.  They have never gotten to meet because of “busy schedules”, which really means Jim has never wanted to encroach on the little time Bones gets to spend with her.Rand smoothly replies with a quick, “No.”  She pauses, uncharacteristically nervous again.  “However, her mother died in a car accident earlier today.”(September Issue AU)





	The Ship

**April**  

All those years back in Georgia when he was little playing with his doctor set, Leonard McCoy would have never thought he’d be directing a fashion shoot for one of the largest fashion magazines ever to hit the face of the Earth.   

Hell,  _The_   _Ship_  wasn’t even created back then.  Not that he is calling himself old, because he wasn’t, thirty-six isn’t ancient thank you very much  _Jim_ _,_ but  _The Ship_  is avant-garde, cutting edge, and the baby of her “captain”, James T. Kirk.  Leonard snorts at the idea of Jim as the captain of any ship.  God knows his crew would always be getting in trouble if he really had a ship.   

Running a critical eye over the set for the color blocking shoot, Leonard watches it begin.  Something always goes wrong when they shooting the September issue.   It isn’t superstition if it’s a fact, and Leonard doesn’t have the time or the patience to deal with it this season.   

“You’re frowning,” Christine Chapel, his second in command, extends a Starbucks cup in his direction.  “Drink your coffee before you scare off the model.  Nyota doesn’t have the patience to calm down a hysterical model today.” 

“Jim isn’t going to like that,” he warns, watching the model arch her back in a pair of tights and belted shirt dress.  There is something off about this scene.  He just can’t figure out what it is yet.   

Christine rolls her eyes.  “He went for it in wardrobe check.  And Janice approves.” 

“I sleep with the man, and even I can’t get inside his head, so how could Rand do it?” 

Christine smiles, all teeth and rather evil looking.  “She’s prettier than you.” 

Leonard snorts into his coffee.  “True.”  He takes a sip before changing topics.  “Do we have that Sulu dress, wine colored with the bow back?” 

Waving at Pavel, who is working in the Closet with Galia, Christine passes along the question with a snide, “Of course.  Hikaru loves us, or it may just be because of our cute Russian boys.” 

The boy in question blushes a dark red before stuttering out that they do have the dress in question and if they need him to pull it from the back.  Leonard takes pity on the kid, and sends him to Galia for the new ensemble. He’s a genius at putting a look together, and he’ll be running this show in a few years, if Jim ever decides to set down. 

“You know,” Chapel says when Chekov leaps away.  “Spock is going to kill you because he wanted that dress for his editorial part of the issue.” 

“I have his girlfriend hostage.” 

“The girlfriend who can hear you!” Nyota Uhura throws over her shoulder, twisting to get a better photo of the model.  Leonard wishes, idly, that he could get her in front of the camera one day.  She has the body of a ballerina, but their domesticated safari photographer wouldn’t ever let him.   

“But I’ll allow it,” she added after the fact.  “I really like that dress.” 

“ _Editorial_ ,” Rand stressed.  “If he goes on a rampage, I will blame you.  I don’t need the Editor-at-Large having a vendetta against me.” 

Leonard shrugged.  “Blame Jim.  That’s what I always do.” 

Christine is about to bite back an angry retort when Leonard’s phone rings.  Blindly, he flips it open and answers.  “McCoy.” 

“Daddy?” Joanna says, and fuck, Leonard knows something is wrong.  She hasn’t called him Daddy since he left Georgia after the divorce, and that was ten years ago.  He can still remember her crying and fighting against Jocelyn’s hold as he walked out of their lives because it was what Jocelyn said was best for them. 

Sometimes, when he’s drunk and feeling maudlin, Leonard wonders if that wasn’t the worse mistake of his life.  He can’t regret it entirely though, he got Jim in the end. 

“Hey Jo,” Leonard drawls, his accent rears back to life and covers his words.  Christine, who has taken a few steps away to give him the illusion of privacy, has to turn away from him.  Leonard knows she is laughing at him, but he can’t bring himself to care because Joanna’s calling him Daddy.  “What’s up?” 

There is some shuffling on the other line, and it sounds crowded from wherever she’s at.  Jocelyn will kill them both if Jo’s pulled some sixteen year old rebellious stunt.  “Where are you baby girl?” he tries again, and is aghast when Jo sniffles. 

“Daddy,” she begins to repeat the word, unable to continue her sentence.  “Daddy, Daddy,  _Daddy_.” 

Leonard, fuck him, fuck Jocelyn, fuck all of this, doesn’t know what to do.  Instead he tries to speak again.  “Baby girl, where is your mother?” 

“Mom’s dead, Daddy.” 

 

 

Jim smiles brilliantly at Rand, who is standing in his office with a mocha from Starbucks.  “You are a goddess among PA’s, Rand.  I  _need_  coffee after that meeting with the staff. Maybe even an IV of caffeine.  Does no one remember to make a September issue? We do one every year and the staff hasn’t changed, so it really isn’t that hard to do again.” 

He takes the coffee from her hands and slumps into his chair.  It’s honestly been a long day, he just wants to go home, have some awesome sex with Bones, and mock  _Marie Claire_  for a bit.  But it’s not even noon, and he has to finish going over the book for May before sending it to Scotty and the printers, five million more meetings and maybe, just maybe, he’ll be able to crawl into bed before one tonight. 

Some days, Jim hates his job as one of the most powerful fashion editors in the world, besides Anna Wintour, but rumor has it she’s thinking about leaving, and then, it may just be him. 

He pulls out his phone, noticing the five missed calls and three texts that he can check later before glancing back up Rand who looks nervous.   Rand has  _never_  looked nervous in the five years she’s worked for him, but the way she bites her lip and refuses to look him in the eye is Nervous 101.   

“What’s wrong?” he questions, going through his email with tiny taps of his fingers.  Answer Spock before the other man comes down the hall, nix whatever the hell Pike wants to talk about, and ask Sulu to drop by sometime this week about that project with GAP. 

“Mr. McCoy – ” Rand begins, but Jim interrupts her with a wicked grin. 

“Doctor McCoy, now.  He has an honorary doctorate in photography.  Honorary, but it still counts,” he smirks.  Rand nods, and he knows she’s filing that away, and from now on, everything Bones receive will have ‘Doctor Leonard H. McCoy’ embossed on it.  Oh, he’s so sleeping on the couch tonight. 

“Doctor McCoy left on a flight for Georgia.  A family emergency.” 

Jim has to swallow the sudden lump in his throat, taking stock of what is in Georgia.  Both women’s name start with J, and Jim knows that Bones would never step foot in the town-that-shall-not-be-named unless it was necessary.   

“Is Joanna?” Jim can’t get the words out, because it hurts too much, burns in his throat, at the simple idea of the girl he’s heard so much about being hurt or worse.  They have never gotten to meet because of “busy schedules”, which really means Jim has never wanted to encroach on the little time Bones gets to spend with her. 

Rand smoothly replies with a quick, “No.”  She pauses, uncharacteristically nervous again.  “However, her mother died in a car accident earlier today.” 

 _Fuck_.  The iPhone falls from his suddenly numb fingers.  “I need…Rand, can you?”  Jim can’t even complete his thoughts.  Fuck,  _Joanna_.  Fuck,  _Bones_.   _Fuck_ , he needs to be there. 

A ticket brushes against his face.  “The car is waiting downstairs and your flight leaves in half an hour.  I will be following tomorrow with yours and Doctor McCoy’s clothes.  Your meetings have been covered with Mr. Spock and Mr. Pike knows of the situation.  Ms. Chapel will cover for Doctor McCoy until need be.” 

Grabbing his phone and the ticket, Jim kisses Rand on the cheek.  “You are fucking awesome.” 

“I know Mr. Kirk.” 

 

 

Everything’s a bit of a blur for Jim.  The flight, the car drive, the plans he makes.  He really only remembers walking into that house and finding Bones on the couch, asleep, and the teenager tucked at his side who glanced up at him when he entered the room. 

“Who are you?” she asks, blue eyes, dark hair and southern charm.  Jim knew who she was before she said a word, because he’s heard stories about her for as long as he’s known Bones. 

“I’m Jim,” he says.   

She stares at him, wide eyed and blank.  “I’m Joanna.  Are you going to be staying?” 

“For as long as you need,” he promises. 

She closes her eyes and buries closer into her father. It’s so painfully childlike to see and tears at Jim, just a little bit.  “Don’t make promises like that,” she whispers.  “It just makes everyone liars in the end.” 

“Okay,” Jim agrees softly.  He settles on the chair beside them, not wanting to interrupt the moment between father and daughter.  “I won’t promise you, but I will be here Joanna.” 

Turning her head enough to look at Jim again, Joanna says, “We’ll see.” 

 

 

Leonard doesn’t remember much from the funeral.  He remembers holding Joanna close as she cried; feeling like a zombie being back in that house, in what had been  _their_  house all those years ago. He remembers Jim rushing in, taking care of everything, dealing with people, and doing everything Leonard should have been doing.   

He remembers Jim cooking, packing, and doing everything that needs to be taken care of before they go back to New York because they have lives back there and Joanna can’t stand this house anymore.  She asks to take her finals early, and finishes two weeks after her mother’s funeral. 

He remembers breaking down the night before they leave.  It’s messy, with shoulders shaking, tears falling, and tightly grasping Jim.  He remembers begging Jim not to leave him.  Not to leave him and Jo.  Because he can’t deal with it, not with so much change happening, not with having to raise Jo alone, not with any of it.  Leonard can’t do it alone. 

He remembers Jim pressing a kiss to his forehead and whispering, “Never Bones.   You are never getting rid of me.  You’re stuck with me.  You are always stuck with me.  Both of you are stuck with me.” 

Leonard remembers Jim best.  He always does. 

 

 

 

 **May**  

Jim goes back to the magazine the instant they land in New York.  He doesn’t want to, but he  _has_  to.  They’ve left the magazine in Spock’s capable hands for long enough, and if left there any longer, Jim’s going to have to fight Spock to death in order to get it back.  Bones doesn’t think that will happen, but Jim isn’t sure.  He’s been getting increasingly worrying texts from Rand that makes Jim think he’s going to have to fight her to the death for  _The Ship_. 

Instead, when he enters his office during the lunch lull, Jim gets an empathetic “oh dear God,  _thank_  you” from Rand. 

“I go by the name of Jim,” he grins, mocha in hand.  Rand’s hair not in its usual up-do, instead it’s been hastily tamed and put into a bun, which just looks wrong.   “Are you in trouble with Christine?” he asks before crossing the room.  “Because I can give you great relationship advice, look at me and Bones.  Three years, and we’re doing great!” 

Rand rolls her eyes good naturedly.  “I don’t need any advice, I just need to stop forging your signature and pretending to be you.” 

“Oh,” Jim says as he collapses into his chair. “But I’m such a handsome man to pretend to be.” 

Snorting silently, she places a mound of paper infront of Jim and smiles sincerely.  “Have fun.” 

Jim stares at her, wide eyed.  “You are kidding me, right?” 

“No.” 

“But you’ve been forging my signature, and Spock can sign off for all the really important things!” 

“This is all the things from the board of directors and Pike can tell when I forge your signature.” 

Slumping in his seat a bit, Jim groans.  “I hate my job.” 

Rand checks her phone and responds without looking up.  “You love your job, sir.  You just hate the paperwork.” 

Jim waves her off.  “Go catch lunch with Chapel and use my credit card.  My thank you gift or something.  Maybe by the time you get back I’ll have made a dent on this monstrosity.” 

Rand looks relieved, but her grin is a bit too wide; Jim fears somewhat for his bank account.  “Thanks.  Also, Sulu is here to talk over the piece about new designers and showcasing his show.” 

Jim pushes the pile away, and finds the folder he had been piecing together with Spock right where he left it.  “Can you send in Spock before you leave?  I need him in on this meeting as well.” 

Rand leaves, probably nodding before she goes, but Jim is too busy writing in the margins of his notes as he re-familiarizes himself with the piece.  The past few weeks in Georgia have made his recollection a bit fuzzy.  He doesn’t know if it’s the lack of sleep, or the deep seated worry that Bones and Joanna won’t take the transition well, even if he tries to smooth every snag before they can happen. 

A polite knock on the door stops Jim’s perusal of the piece.  Spock stands in the doorway, clad in a carefully tailored suit, and looks just the same as the day Jim left.  It’s nice to see that something never change.  “Hey Spock,” Jim waves his friend in.  “Are we ready for the Sulu piece?” 

“Yes,” Spock states, perching carefully in the seat across from Jim.  “We have the pieces already set, a interview is still needed, as well as a profile.  It is all in your folder.” 

Jim’s lips twist into a wicked smile.  “You do know I’ll be adding a bit more flair, just because I hate your analytical style.” 

Spock inclines his head.  “I have already taken into account your need to add expressive details and have made notes where they would best be placed.” 

“Ahh,” Jim mock gasps.  “You did that for poor old me?” 

Spock raises and eyebrow and says nothing.   

Jim settles in his seat, finishing flicking through the papers while Spock carefully studies his fellow editor.  He’s prone to do that when Jim is silent.  “How is Doctor McCoy doing?” Spock finally queries when Jim sets the folder down. 

“Okay,” Jim shrugs.  “Well, as okay as a man can be with his ex dying and taking custody of his shell shocked teenage daughter.” 

Spock stares at Jim a bit longer.  “And how are you doing Jim?” 

The man in question sighs and leans against his desk likes he needs it to keep himself upright.  “I don’t know.  I mean, I want to be here to help them through it because I  _love_  Bones, and I want to love Joanna.  But Bones needs to be there for his daughter, and she doesn’t want me nearby because she thinks I’ll leave or something if I get close to her.   I don’t know how to help and be the person that both of them need me to be.” 

Leaning forward, Spock places a hand on Jim’s shoulder.  “Be who you are Jim, because that is the only person you can be.  You are the only person they need you to be.” 

Both are quiet for a moment before Jim pulls back and says, “I’ll go get Hikaru so we can get this show on the road.” 

Spock nods and doesn’t mention anything on the previous topic. 

 

 

The first week in New York, Joanna refuses to leave Leonard’s side like she did right before the custody battles went south, and Leonard lost all chance he had to be around his daughter on a permanent basis.   Instead of fifteen, she’s two, looking for her balance in this world she has never even seen before.  The models running this way and that, the directors sweeping through the halls and everyone holding their breaths when he walks by, millions of dollars of pieces in the closet – she has never seen any of it before as she follows him around like a wide-eyed duckling. 

She still flinches around Jim a bit, around loud noises, but kids are resilient, and Joanna has always been strong.  She made it through his and Jocelyn’s divorce when she was little, she can come out of this a little stronger as well. 

That’s what Leonard tells himself when he’s setting up the Sulu shoot for the September issue.  Christine and Janice finished up the details for the shoot with Spock approving it while Jim and he were in Georgia for almost a month.  They’ve lost precious time, but everything is running like clockwork.  If Leonard didn’t know how long he had been gone, it would just be like any other September issue. 

“Hello there,” Nyota says as she comes onto the set.  She’s late for her usual self, but Leonard sees the reason trailing behind her and thinks he’s going to kiss her, Jim and Spock’s jealousy be damned.  

Nyota is raising her niece Ayasha after the death of her sister and brother-in-law.  Jim had hired his old college friend when she had arrived in New York, and Leonard had helped her out a few times with babysitting because Nyota had struggled some in the beginning, but the fifteen year old had bosomed beautifully under her aunt’s care.   

Interested in the younger girl, Joanna greets the photographer back and introduces herself.  Nyota leaves their side, but Leonard watches for a moment.  Ayasha gestures wildly about the room, and Jo nods empathetically before Pavel appears at their side with a mischievous grin and Hikaru Sulu eyeing the girls like he wants to design entire lines around them. 

Chapel clears her throat, and Leonard has to rip his attention from his little girl, his little girl who is interacting with others for the first time in a while, to the parade of models waiting for Nyota and his last minute check.   

“You didn’t have to take Ayasha out of school for a day on my behalf,” Leonard says, as he eyes the first model, wearing a simple black dress.    

Nyota snorts as she settles beside him.  “I didn’t do it for you.  I did it because I’m an awesome aunt, and Aya hates the contemporary art museum field trip that happens every year.” 

She fusses over the third model’s scarf, adjusting the draping and debating over the sunglasses perching on the model’s nose.  Leonard leans back to watch with approval.  Spock has finally groomed the woman’s accidental fashion sense and matured it into a vital skill. 

“Still,” he drawls as the models go to their spots since the first picture is a group shot. 

“It’s already done,” Nyota states, going to pull her camera out.  “Nothing needs to be said.” 

That’s as close as  _thank you_  and  _you’re welcome_  as they will get.  Though, Leonard knows he owes Nyota a debt when Joanna and Ayasha breathlessly run up at the end of the shoot.  They are wearing at least five thousand dollars in designer clothes each, but Pavel winks at them, and Leonard knows Jim’s okayed his baby girl having one of a kind designer pieces.  Sulu has a sketch book, and Leonard knows he’ll have a box filled with specially made pieces by the end of the week. 

Joanna has a wide smile that last the entire afternoon and babbles through lunch at a nearby café, about Ayasha, Pavel, Sulu, and how awesome his job is.  Leonard revels in her warmth and varied expressions because it’s the first time she’s smiled since he arrived in Georgia. 

 

 

 

 **June**  

Joanna is still working out her aversion to being left alone, especially alone with Jim, when Bones has to leave for an award deal.   She doesn’t dislike Jim, but she’ wary about trust an adult in her life right now, especially one that is poised to take the place of her mother, even if everyone involved knows it’s nothing like that. 

However the award dinner is in his honor, so Bones has to go even if Joanna looks devastated when he mentions it.  Jim volunteers to stay home with Joanna because the press will go nuts if she is there.  It’s one of the downsides of being Creative Director of  _The Ship_ , he’s a minor celebrity in the industry.  So he leaves right after work, Joanna hiding in her room and Jim working in the living room of their shared townhouse.   

And hour later, Joanna comes out of her room, bored, and decides to talk to Jim. 

“What are you doing?” 

Joanna peers around Jim’s shoulder at the pile of sticky notes, and Jim’s marking up the August issue with his numerous notes that pretty much amount to  _I like this, expand on it,_ and the ever popular  _NO_ _!!!_ _!_   “Looking over the book,” Jim says around the pen lid in his mouth.     

Joanna is dressed in sweatpants and a sweatshirt, even though summer is beginning to settle into the city.  Jim thinks it has more to do with comfort than actual warmth.  Especially since the sweatshirt is one of few Bones has managed to save from Jim’s ever frequent purges of “crappy clothing”.  The sweatpants are unfamiliar but just as well worn as her top. 

She cranes her head some more, looking at the accessory shoot that M’Benga finished the other day.  “Am I allowed to see?”  

“Usually people need to sign non-disclosure agreements just to see this, but I think I can take a pinky swear.” 

There is a faint curling of Joanna’s lips, something that Jim hasn’t seen in the days since the funeral, and he counts it as a win.  “Sure,” she extends her pinky to Jim.  “I pinky swear.” 

Jim curls his own around Joanna’s, and they both exchange glances like they are five and sharing the secrets of the universe with each other.  “Come on,” Jim pats the spot next to him.  “I always could use a second opinion.” 

Lifting herself over the edge of the couch, Joanna lands beside him with a quick grin.  “Don’t look so parental Jim; I’ve been doing this since I was six and wanted to be a gymnast.” 

“It’s a designer couch,” he protests weakly, five million thoughts onhow she could have just broken her neck run through his head.  “What is it about you McCoy’s and not knowing the meaning of designer?” 

“I know what it means,” she counters.  “It means pricey, one of a kind, and something that I will never get to keep.” 

He has birthdays to make up on, Jim knows, but he has the need to show her his world.  The beauty, the craftsmanship, and ripple effect it has on the world.  He wants to drape her in Prada, Chanel, and Sulu’s new collection.   Jim wants her to understand him – wants her to like him with a desperateness that eats at his bones. 

Jim nods in the direction of the book in his lap.”Any thoughts?” 

Joanna stares at the glossy pages before her.  “It’s fashion, what thoughts should I have?” 

“Fashion tells a story,” he points to the dancing girl before him.   She smiles brilliantly at him behind the dusty make up, flowing skirts, and shining boots.  “Each piece is inspired by something.  An everyday ritual, the way the city looks after the rain, or a romantic afternoon in Paris.  It’s always part of a story.” 

Joanna’s fingers curl around the page of the book, staring intensely at the model’s carefree expression.  “You manufacture a scene with every picture, a story with every book, and create a desire to want that dream, want to be that girl in the story.   Is that what you do?” 

“Yes,” he smiles.  “I try to make people happy.” 

Her dark hair, Bones’ hair, tumbles as she looks at him.  “You are a lovely person Jim.”  She says it with such conviction that Jim’s smile dims just for a second because he isn’t.  He’s not as good as Bones, as Nyota, as Spock, as anyone else.  “I can see what Dad sees in you.” 

She leans against him, and asks him to explain the next picture to her, and the next, and the next.  Jim obliges her, taking comfort in the warmth and excited to teach her about his world. The world where every person had a story, every bag a tale, and everything weaves into a novel that only he can see. 

When Leonard comes in late that night, Joanna’s quietly sleeping against Jim, who has his reading glasses on and scribbling notes in the book.  Grandmother Kirk’s afghan is tucked around Joanna, and Jim, from time to time, glances at her to make sure she is still asleep. 

“Hey,” Leonard murmurs, careful to not disturb his two precious people as he sets his bags by the couch.  “Everything go okay?” 

Jim hums as he finishes his last note.  “She asked about the book,” he finally said.  “And I showed her. She’s got your eye for detail, kept pointing out things that were wrong with some of the shoots.” 

Jim turned his face upward and looked so utterly terrified.  “Bones,” he starts but stops.  “I don’t…I just don’t know how to do this.” 

“You did pretty well tonight,” Leonard nods in the direction of Jo’s sleeping figure. 

Jim bites his lip, an old nervous habit from long before Leonard knew him.  “I just want to be good at this, you know, helping her.”  Because Jim isn’t used to failing at anything he put his mind to. Hell, he was the editor of Enterprise at age twenty nine because he wanted to. 

Leonard leans forward and brushes his lips against Jim’s forehead.  You’ll be fine,” he murmured.  “I know it.” 

And he had, since the first moment Jim saw Joanna and asked her if she wanted anything to drink.  The way he had phrased the question, carefully sat outside her personal space, and observed every twitch she made, Leonard had known Jim would be great at raising Joanna. 

He’s known it for years. 

 

 **July**  

Leonard approaches his daughter about Jim.  “I like him,” she says while texting Ayasha. 

“Only like?” Leonard despairs a bit at that. 

Joanna looks up and sees his expression before setting down her phone.  “I really do like him,” she graps his hands while talking.  “I really do Daddy.  He’s not Mom, but I like Jim better than Clay.  Most definitely better than  Clay.” 

Leonard straightens at that.  “Really?” 

“Yeah,” she empathically nods.  “So, if you are about to do what I think you are about to do, please do it.  You need to make an honest man out of Jim sometime.” 

 

 

The final version of the issue is due at the end of the month, and Jim is frantically trying to finish it up.  Everyone at the magazine is a bit harried, but Joanna finds time one day during Jim’s ten minute lunch break to sneak into his office. 

“Hey,” she smiles.  Ever since that night last year, she’s been at ease around him.  Jim suspects she finally trusts that promise he gave her when they first met. 

“Hey,” he returns, taking off his reading glasses.  She’s carrying a steaming cup of Starbucks and a bag from the Chinese place around the corner.  “Oh you are absolutely God sent.” 

Joanna beams, moving a few stacks of paper so there is enough space for them to eat.  “Dad has reshoots all day, and I thought I’d join you for lunch.” 

He offers no protests and helps her make room. “I love to have lunch dates with pretty women,” Jim says instead.  Joanna rolls her eyes, used to his flirty attitude, and hands him the box of General Tso chicken.   

They begin eating with a few barbs thrown in each direction.  Joanna makes fun of his thick framed glasses, and Jim notes that she’s wearing one of the dresses Hikaru had couriered over, especially for her.  She blushes easily but gives as good as she gets.   

Jim knows he’ll never be as close to Joanna as she is to Bones or even how she was with Jocelyn, but eating lunch and bantering like they are now, he is fine just like this.   

Joanna pokes at her Lo Mein and suddenly asks, “Why are you and Dad not married?” 

Taken aback at the change of subject, Jim blinks before setting down the carton.  “Well,” he says, thinking about the reasons.  “I guess we just ever thought about it.” 

“What?”  Joanna cries.  “You’ve been dating for over three years and were dancing around it for seven years before that, so why not?  It’s not like you two don’t love each other.” 

Jim makes sure to catch her eyes when he answers.  “I think we both have commitment issues.  It took us seven years to reach the point where one of us did something about our feelings, and we’re both comfortable with what we have.”  He shrugs afterwards.  “And I think this gives us some freedom if it doesn’t work out in the end.” 

“Ten years,” Joanna states.  “You’ve pretty much been together for ten years, and you think there may be a break up at some point?” 

He doesn’t know what to say to that, because really, Jim has never imagined an end to his and Bones’ relationship.  Never really thought about it, honestly.  “I love your father,” Jim begins.  “I love him more than anything in the world, but Joanna, I don’t know if I’m the man your father wants as a husband, or the person you want as a step-father.  I did some crazy thing a while back, and I don’t  

Jim paused and dropped his gaze a bit.  “I’m not the person your Dad deserves.  He deserves somuch better than me.  You deserve so much better than me.” 

Her hand darted out and covered his.  “I can’t say anything about my Dad,” she confesses.  “But I’d love to have you as my step-dad.  If you’ll have me.” 

She suddenly looks shy, and Jim grips her hands tightly.  “I’d love to have you as a daughter Joanna. I’ve loved you since Bones described you.” 

Joanna breaks out into a wide grin.  “Does this mean I get to call you Papa?” 

She starts laughing a second later at his horrified look.  “We’ll come up with a better name,” she promises in between laughing fits. 

 

 

It’s at the end of the month when Jim finally crawls into bed worry free.  The issue is finished, and Pike approved of it.  For the first time in the past few months, everything is going well. 

Leonard turns over in the dark room to face Jim; he should be asleep, considering it’s after midnight and they both have an early morning tomorrow.  “Hey,” Jim breathes, because he’s missed Bones.  It’s been a while since they’ve have a quiet moment together. 

“Marry me, Jim.” 

“What?” Jim’s voice rising to a dangerously high pitch.  His forehead is touching Bones’, and he so close that Jim can see the brown of Bones’ eyes, the crow’s feet beginning to gather the corners, and the way his brow creases at Jim’s words. 

“I can’t,” Jim says in that high pitched tone, because he was just blind sighted by all of this.  “You….you can do better than me.” 

“Don’t,” Bones intoned, wrapping his fingers around Jim’s wrists.  “Don’t go all noble on me.  Not now.” 

Jim attempts to pull back and drops his head.  “It’s true though.  You deserve better.  I’m not right for you.  You should be with someone you can raise Joanna with.  Not someone who can barely keep his head on straight most of the time, let alone help raise a kid.   I’m not the guy you’re supposed to end up with.  I’m not the happily ever after guy; I’m just  _not_.” 

Jim wonders if the burning sensation in his chest that fells like he’s been burned alive is what coming apart at the seams is like.  Like he wants to put a gun to his head and just pull the trigger, to stop that little voice in the back of his head screaming  _what the hell are you doing._ Because,  _God_ , he is giving Bones an out of the promises they made all those years ago.   

An out from the long arguments, the other woman Jim calls his job, and the horrible influence Jim would be on Joanna.  An out the other man will most likely take, even if Joanna wants them to be a family.  He wants it too.  He wants to dress Joanna, to scare off her future boyfriends; he wants all of that at Bones side.   He wants them.  He wants the happily ever after being handed to him, but he  _needs_  to know Bones is sure.   

Because, for the first time in a long time, everything is going great for Jim.  The magazine is doing well, Joanna wants him for a father figure, and Bones is asking Jim to marry him.  Jim’s happy, and everything falls apart when he’s happy. 

“Like hell you ain’t,” Bones snipes back, tightening his grasp on Jim when he tries to pull away.  “Like hell you aren’t the only person I want to raise Joanna with, the only person I want in my bed.  Like hell, you are the only person who complements every part of me and every part of my life. Jim, I love you, and what the hell makes you think that marrying me is going to change any bit of that?” 

Hysterical laughter bubbles in Jim’s throat.  “I don’t know,” he shakes his head.  “I don’t know.  But are you sure?” 

Bones surges forward and kisses him. It’s awkward because they are both lying sideways and Jim is taken a bit by surprise with the move.   But it’s just as passionate as their first kiss years ago when they promised that what they were starting may not be perfect, but it was them at their best. 

“Yes,” Jim whispers the second they break apart.  “Yes, I’ll do this.  Yes, I’ll be your husband.  Yes, I’ll marry you.” 

Bones smiles.  “Good,” he sneaks in a kiss.  “Because I was about to bring Joanna in to convince you,  _w_ _ho can come in now because I know you are listening at the door_.” 

Their bedroom door flies open and Joanna leaps onto the bed.  “Okay, no kissing right now.  I just want to say welcome, officially, to the family Jim.  And Hikaru has already promised to do your suits.” 

“When did you talk to Sulu?”Jim asked, a bit incredulous.  “I just said yes three seconds ago.” 

Joanna’s grin is a bit too wicked for Jim’s liking.  “Oh, Janice, Chris and I have been planning your wedding for  _weeks_.  How do you feel about a late August wedding?”’ 

 

 

 **September**  

The editor’s page that’s month issue had a picture of Jim and Leonard smiling widely at the camera.  Joanna was squished between them, all pearly whites for her invisible audience.  The picture itself is classic black and white, but the matching rings on both men’s fingers still gleam brightly. 

The caption was simple and read, “If you haven’t heard, I got married.  Too busy on my honeymoon with my husband and scaring off potential boyfriends of step-daughter to write the editor’s page.  See you on the next issue! - _Jim_ ” 

 

It is the best selling issue to date. 


End file.
